First Valentine's Day
by PJCOLE
Summary: Arthur is looking forward to his first Valentine's Day with his three year crush and current boyfriend Alfred F. Jones. Can Alfred live up to the Brit's fantasies?


**A/N: Woot! Managed to actually upload something! I had massive writers block (and inspiration for non USUK) but this idea randomly came and somehow wrote itself in like 45 minuets flat! Anyways happy V-Day Enjoy! **

Arthur woke up before his alarm, not feeling tired in the least. Standing up slowly he yawned and sighed happily. The sun was just starting to peek up over the horizon, casting little rays in through the blinds. Leaving the lazily lit room Arthur headed in for a shower. The hot steam felt wonderful on his tired skin and the sweet smell of his flowery shampoo made the shower even nicer. He took a rather long one, spending most of it standing and thinking. He could not help but be excited about the day. It was his first Valentine's Day with Alfred, well as a couple any ways. Look forward to what he knew would be an over the top display of affection from his American idiot, was completely normal. He did harbor a crush for the blue-eyed beauty since freshmen year. Finally, after three years of watching from a far the boy was his. Today was just going to be perfect.

Knowing he had woken up a good ten minutes before he usually did, the Brit took his time getting dressed. He sifted through a plethora of outfits, before deciding on a casual shirt and worn jeans. Brushing his hair was usually in vain so he just let it take its shape as it air dried. Alfred did say he liked the way the Brit's dirty blonde locks fathered in every direction (of course not using such nicely chosen words).

While eating a bowl of (burnt and cold) oatmeal, the Brit wrote three different Valentine's cards. The first had been a little impersonal, the second way to forward and the third slightly creepy. It took nearly ten minutes to decide on a short and simple note on red construction paper, with little white hearts stapled on. So what if it made him look cheap, hand-made gifts were always nice because they came from the heart. Of course his reason had been having no money, but that was beside the point. He shoved the paper in his bag and brushed his teeth quickly. With a quick look in the mirror he shrugged on his satchel and started his walk to Hell (high school).

Fist period went by in a haze. Normally he would hang on every word his English teacher spoke, but not today. All he could think about was third period government, the class he shared with his boyfriend. Second period was even easier to tone out. He rather hated the French man who enjoyed teaching Heath Ed just a little too much. Forcing away the sight of Mr. Bonnefe's suggestive gesturing, Arthur walked towards room 18. He at least tried to walk, settling on some sort of half jog.

He, seeing as he practically ran there, was the first in the room. This was actually quite a good thing; Mr. Honda let them sit where ever the please and now Arthur could be sure to save a seat for Alfred. He decided on two desks in the far left corner, a place basically ignored by everyone. It would allow the two to talk without uncomfortable glances from a blushing Japanese man. Waiting patiently (haha) Arthur never looked away from the door.

When Alfred finally did come in, a few seconds late, he sat next to Arthur (like any other day) and started talking about random things (just like any other day). At first Arthur thought he had gotten the date wrong. Then he tried to convince himself that Alfred simply was waiting till after lunch to do anything. But, lunch came and went, and Alfred did absolutely nothing. Being rather use to his tendency to see the worst in every situation, Arthur tried to convince himself that Alfred was saving something special for after school.

Sixth period was mostly spent fantasizing about the many dramatic things Alfred could be planning. If he was going to such extent to pretend he had forgotten, it must be something amazing. Or at least it better be. Arthur sighed dreamily, confusing the girl next to him (as they were learning about inverse trig functions). When the bell finally rang he almost ran out of the room towards the tree he usually met Alfred by.

He stood alone for a while, before reaching for his phone, panicking just a little. Before he could call the stupid American and yell profanities into the idiot's ear, he noticed a missed txt from said wanker.

**Alfred 2:52 : Hey Artie, srry I can't stay after today. See ya tmrow!**

Arthur's left eye started to twitch at the last sentence (and not just because Alfred's grammar when texting was so horribly atrocious). "What the bloody hell do you mean tomorrow, fucking stupid damn idiot, wanker, git!" He threw his phone on the grass and yelled at it as though it had typed the bloody message. A few people cocked an eye brow at the scene as they passed by. No one questioned it though, already having marked the Brit who talked to himself, as the school weirdo.

He had a rather long staring contest with the phone before picking I back up and hurrying off to his car. He refused to cry on the way home, but did break down as soon as he got in the house. Fishing through his bag for his house key (that always managed to fall of his key ring) he found the card he made earlier that day. Promptly ripping it he sobbed a bit before finding the blasted key and making his way into the house.

Luckily his mother did not make it home to well after dinner, so he was able to stay in his room crying and sleeping until midnight. At that specific time his phone decided play a recording of Alfred yelling 'answer your phone,' which the git had recorded as his ring tone a few weeks back. Arthur would have been able to ignore a normal ring, but Alfred's voice (intentionally) became pleading as the ringer continued.

"What the hell do you want!" Arthur yelled in a whispered, not wanting to wake his mother in the next room.

"Come out side." A cheery voice replied.

"Why the hell would I go outside! You do realize it 12 o'clock, git!" Arthur hissed, rubbing his tired (and somewhat swollen) eyes.

"Yeah I know, that's why I'm here. Just come out side." It simply got cheerier.

"No I'm mad at you!" Arthur huffed crossing his arms and look away from the phone, convinced Alfred would somehow see his reaction.

"Yeah I knew you would be, but believe me you want to come outside." The American pleaded, and Arthur knew he was making sad puppy dog eyes.

"No," but the Brit refused to fall for an image he was creating in his head.

"Please!" Oh now he knew the puppy dog eyes were out.

"…NO" He had to force the reply, slowly bending to Alfred's will.

"Arthur, pretty please. With sugar on top." And that did it.

"…fine, but this better be good." Arthur sighed, pulling the phone away from his hear so it would not start bleeding when Alfred shouted his happiness.

"YAY!" The boy would wake the whole bloody neighborhood.

"Bloody wanker." He whispered, hanging up and sliding his old slippers on. It did not take long to get to the door and when he did he swung it open without a second thought, to busy being angry to remember what he was wearing and who he was going to see once it opened.

"Now what did-" His breath cut short at the sight in front of him. Alfred stood in front of his beet up truck holding a bouquet of red roses and a box of chocolates. Not only that but he was dressed in a button up shirt, red, white and blue tie, and nice black slacks. His hair was nicely done (aside from the one annoying cow lick) and a huge grin was smeared across his face. Alfred stepped closer, blushing a little at how cute Arthur looked in his pen-striped pajamas with utter shock painted across his face.

"What on earth-" Again his words were stopped, this time by a certain American's lips pressing against his own. Alfred had dropped the flowers and candies to hold the Brit's, now warming, face instead. The kiss was kept short.

"I'm sorry that I probably made you livid by not doing this yesterday, but I had my reasons." Arthur stuttered a little as Alfred gently rubbed his thumbs across the Brit's still flaming cheeks.

"A-And what were they?" He finally managed, unable to look away from the git's amazing blue eyes.

"I don't need a holiday to show you how much I love you." A slight pink tint graced Alfred's cheeks and he swallowed hard, hoping he didn't seem to lame. Though even if he did, Arthur would not have noticed. This was exactly the over the top thing the Brit had been hoping for.

"Bloody git." He smiled, before pressing his lips hard against Alfred's, not planning on keeping this one anywhere near as short as the last.

**A/N: Hey got through Sweethearts Week. It was so worth the effort though! I had a lot of fun! Can't wait to do it again next year!**


End file.
